Result May Vary
by vkdemon
Summary: Jackson adjusts to his new wolf body (Spoilers Season 2) Jackson/Lydia


**Author:** vkdemon  
**Pairing(s):** Jackson-centric Jackson/Lydia  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** ~1600  
**Warnings:** angst  
**Summary:** Jackson adjusts to his new wolf body (Spoilers Season 2)  
**AN:**My entry for the Teen Wolf Fan Fiction contest

It blared.

It screamed.

It rocked through his body and made his blood turn to fire. His vision blurred as the sound of the passing period bell mercifully shuts off. Jackson despised his seat in history, second from the front on the east side right next to the windows. It was also right under the horrific red bell that dictates his day's schedule with unyielding authority. Mr. Malek may have handed out homework, but he can't tell at all because of that damned bell.

Welcome to being a full werewolf. It pretty much sucked. He cringed as Danny came up beside him. The scent of Armani cologne clogged his senses.

"Jackson? You okay?"

"Who are you trying to impress? That's an intense amount of cologne."

"Um. I didn't put on any today. I usually don't before practice." Danny's voice took on that oh-so-familiar concerned tone.

"Put on less. It stinks." He walked, away from Danny and enduring the look on his best friend's face. He couldn't help the distance that gaped between them. He was a lizard thing with lost memories. It was not like he could control it. Now he was leaving Danny behind to protect him. The Hawaiian would just have to deal with his own emotions.

Jackson stepped into the corridor of lockers, each metallic slam would cause his eyes to unfocus from pain. He rushed past it, he had already read the chemistry chapter and he would rather deal with Mr. Harris' evil glares than the lockers.

Tatertots were being dumped from their little metal cages into trays all for him. It was the first good smell to hit him all day. Finally something his overactive senses could enjoy, lunch. The food smell was perfect, combinations of crisp green apples, deep fried and battered potatoes, and chocolate from the milk and packaged brownies. He was starving!

Jackson pushed his way into the center of the line, using his jerk-grin and position as team co-captain to get to the food as usual. At least this was familiar. Get his burger and tater tots and lasagna and brownie and chocolate milk and that pizza slice looked really appealing too. He had to grab a second tray. The lunch lady, her tangerine perm pushed up into a hairnet, looked at the pile of food and back to him.

"$23.50." It was the same bored tone used by every lunch lady in the history of cafeterias when dealing with smart-alec children.

"What is this, a sit-down restaurant? It's one meal."

"I don't make the prices, kid."

His credit card made it's way to her hand and back. Damn inflation. A tater tot exploded across his tongue. He popped one after another as he reached his familiar table. He sat right at the head of it, Lydia to his right. Danny was nowhere to be seen. A moment later Stiles plopped down to his left, that huge Stilinski smile beaming for Lydia.

Item after item was shoveled down Jackson's throat. He whimpered, finding his hands flying faster, not able to care for the conversation that halted in the wake of his manic growl. He was so hungry!

A hand touched to his arm. MINE! Jackson's eyes flashed blue as he protected his kill... meal... Stiles had grabbed his hand back so fast that it ricocheted off his own face. He should be amused by the spaz. Instead he wanted to scare Stiles, to make him shake and run like prey. He should, Stiles needed to keep away from what was his.

Lydia's voice brought him back from the edge. "Jackson! Down, what are you thinking? We're at school." He could hear more than see the plastic smile she'd plastered on.

His throat worked to form a response. In a growl the half-emptied tray went flying into Stiles, smacking the same place his abandoned touch had. Jackson hoped it hurt as he stormed away.

"Woah. What's with him?" Scott pondered as he helped pick pepperoni off of Stiles face.

"Scott, do you ever get the irrational need to slam me into hard surfaces?" Stiles voice was far calmer than Scott.

"Um, no." Scott was smiling confused as he look at his best friend. "Is this about Derek?"

"Nah, just a rising trend of physical violence against the Stiles I am so not on board with."

For the first time in his life he ditched Lacrosse. He didn't know how he would deal with the hideous odor of the boy's locker room. He dropped his car keys into the little seashell at the entrance hallway. His mother had a thing for mermaids, like every other wannabe California mom who wished they lived on the ocean. He sighed as he recognized his parent's keys resting in the shell. It was his mother's irritated voice that came first.

"We can't keep ignoring it." Her voice had taken a stern tone... it had to be the middle of the argument.

"You know the problem. Same as always. I will never forgive your sister for telling..."

"Don't you dare bring my family into this. He needed to know eventually. This is bigger than the adoption. He's been avoiding us."

"What about counseling. It could help him. Lord knows he won't talk to us." He hated the resignation in his father's voice.

"He's been in it for years."

"It could be chemical."

Jackson turned up his music, he'd rather be deaf than hear the rest of his parent's discussion about him. They knocked on his door not long after. He didn't open it.

"We're going out to dinner, Jackson. You father left some money on the table. Don't stay up too late..." His adopted mother was so worried.

He vaguely grunted at the door. His breathing only returned to normal when he heard their car pull out of the driveway. He slammed the remote to his stereo to turn off the sound. Down the street a neighbor was pulling trash cans out to the street. A cat was meowing two doors down, someone was doing aerobics from a video that had to be from the 80's. Even the sprinklers on his own lawn took up a rattling hiss. Nothing was quiet. He just wanted some peace and quiet!

Life wasn't going his way. His phone startled him up from his pillow. A fast hand cleared away the wet that had been resting on his cheek. He didn't have time for it. CallerID flashed Danny's name. The ignore button was his refuge.

It rang, he ignored. It rang, he ignored. He held it into his hand and punched the button without even looking at the ID. Eventually they stopped calling. It was better that way. No one calling him meant he got his peace. No one to hear. No one to smell and no one to hurt.

"Ignoring my calls is the best way to get yourself volunteered for a rom-com marathon this weekend."

"Go away, Lydia."

"You say the sweetest things." She proceeded to sit right down on his bed where his prone form was using the pillow to attempt to block out any sound. It hadn't been working. "You made a scene. Do you understand how embarrassing it was attempting to explain your sudden burst of testosterone? Not that's it's particularly unexpected."

His head was excavated from the pillow fortress of solitude to roll his eyes at his girl. "It's that time of the month. It always works for you."

"Technically, you have a time of the month now. Do I need to go get chocolate?"

He smiled, just the quirk of the corner of his mouth. She smiled back. It was enough, their shattered relationship wasn't sliding back together seamlessly. It was rubbing against strange new angles and getting stuck on new fears and complications, but it was back. He grabbed an arm around her waist and sat up so she could curl into his chest. Moments passed.

The 80's aerobic video faded into white noise. The street cat was a gasp of air. The sprinklers on his own lawn disappeared until there was nothing but her steady beating heart. Peace... and quiet... He could hear his heart matching her beats.

"No wonder he's joined at Allison's hip."

"Beside the pathetic attempt at a Romeo and Juliet remake?"

Jackson smirked. "How do you think he does it? I wanted to rip everyone's head off. Every sound was like hell."

"Hmmm. Not sure. Must be that hunky older wolf he hangs around with. You know, the one who actually knows what's going on with all of this supernatural mumbo-jumbo."

"No way, Lydia. I don't need some shut-in telling me how to meditate and stalk abandoned schools."

"So you'll go to school like this? I guess you'll do perfectly fine. I can't wait to see you on the lacrosse field with the love affair Coach Flintstock has to his whistle." Lydia's lips pursed as she examined her nails.

He cringed, a hand going up to protect his ear from the figment whistle. "I hate you so much."

"Love you too. You're taking me out tomorrow to thank me for my awesome guidance."

The Hale house looked like something from a horror movie. If Derek ever rebuilt it, it would look like one of the mansions from Lydia's Victorian romance dramas. Probably better like this. Derek didn't fit as a Jane Austen hero anyway. Not that Jackson knew... fine, he knew but it was Lydia's fault. This was a horror setting and he was the snobbish rich boy with perfect hair and a sports car. He just needed to have a mysterious past and he was shoe in for either first victim or serial killer. Lucky him.

At least this time he could hear a steady heartbeat. Derek was inside and the Alpha held the answers he needed. At least he hoped. There was a possibility Derek didn't know anything and they were all doomed. Jackson rolled his neck and stormed into the house just like he approached everything in life. Like a battle.

/end


End file.
